As I enjoyed my leftover steak and twice-baked potato for lunch today, I was reminded of less happy times.

Less happy times like yesterday.

But before I tell you my tale of woe, I must tell you a story about my wife:

My dearest bride has been known on occassion to obsess about things. Sometimes its the urgent need to clean her closet when guests are coming over, other times its the Tupperware drawer. Fortunately the day the lidless plastic containers finally crossed into OCD-land, we saw a commercial for the greatest invention since round wheels: The Smart Spin Storage System. For those unaware (or too lazy to click the link), the Smart Spin is a storage container set containing 24 containers in 3 convenient sizes, and 24 “Easy Peel” lids. Since the lids are interchangeable, there’s no rummaging in vain for a lid that no longer exists. To make the process even easier, the Smart Spin holds all the pieces using the “unique patented design [that] slides forward, then spins like a carousel, for easy selection.”

My wife begged me to order it, but since it was near Christmas, I thought someone in the family could get it for her. It seems, however, that the rest of the family didn’t find it to be a Christmas Caliber™ gift. My bad.

We continued to struggle with the abyss that was the Tupperware drawer until the day I found myself sitting at ShopKo waiting for a prescription. As I sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair, a nearby end-cap caught my eye. It was fronted floor-to-ceiling with the Smart Spin Storage System (As Seen On TV!). I left the store with my antiboitics and (count ‘em) two Smart Spin Storage Systems!

She was thrilled! All the old containers found themselves abandoned to the basement; in their place were the space-saving Smart Spins. Did I mention that she was thrilled? Convenient-to-find containers and matching blue lids. What could be better?

Back to my story…

In a rush yesterday I grabbed leftovers from the fridge and tossed them in my lunch bag. When eleven rolled around, I popped the containers into the microwave and impatiently waited for Mesquite-grilled Steak and my wife’s homemade twice-baked potatos. Yum!

But as I waited, I was curious as to why I smelled brownies. It turns out the uniform spin saver containers can be deceptive when there’s more than one of them in the fridge at the same time. In my haste, I grabbed the leftover chocolate lava cake. It was in the same sized Smart Spin Storage System (As Seen On TV!) container, but one shelf lower in the refrigerator.

It was good cake, but by the time I stopped the microwave I had nuked it into oblivion.

I expected Steak and Potato – A potato and a carbonized lava-cake-coal-ball just isn’t the same.

This morning my wife left before the kids were awake. She really wanted to say goodbye, so instead of a hug and a kiss she wrote a note to each boy.

I read the youngest’s note to him when he got up. He smiled as I read it to him, then didn’t believe me when I said it was from Mom. The eldest read his, and tried to decypher the hieroglyphics that were a pair of arms giving a hug and lips giving a kiss. Mom, it seems, doesn’t meet his artistic standards. But I think they both were pleased to get a note from Mom.

When my sisters and I were growing up there were times that our mom wasn’t home after school. Often she helped out at our dad’s office when they were between assistants. During those times, we’d rush into the kitchen as soon as we got home. On the counter there was an old tape recorder. We’d push the play button (sometimes it was really hard to engage), and Mom’s voice would come from the tinny speaker. She’d welcome all of us home and tell us what we could have for a snack. Then she’d leave a little encouraging message for each kid. Her messages always ended with her telling us she loved us. You could hear the smile in her voice when she said it.

There’s just something special about a message from Mom.